I'll Follow You Anywhere
by BloodRedWolf26
Summary: Harsh and heavy breaths escaped through tightly clenched teeth. Another scream, sounding ever closer, rang out. "Hold on Steve!" Bucky roared as he barreled down the thin alleyway.


**I'll Follow You Anywhere**

**_Author's Note: _**_Howdy FanFiction! How's it going?_

_This'll be my first story ever published on this site and I'm really excited. And maybe slightly nervous. I hope you all enjoy it! Constructive Criticism is welcomed! No flames please! Oh, and if you see any grammatical errors, feel free to point them out so I can fix them!_

**_P.S._**_ I do not own the Captain America or Marvel Franchise. If I did, Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans would be mine._

**_Rated T: Some strong language, and violence_**

_Anyways, onwards with the story! Hope you enjoy!_

Brooklyn, New York. 1942.

**Bucky's P.O.V.**

"Where is that little punk?" James 'Bucky' Barnes huffed as he leaned back against the solid, bony exterior of the park fence. The last rays of calm, evening sunlight cast a warm orange glow across the expanse of Brooklyn, and if Bucky weren't as annoyed and unfocused as he was, he might've seen it as beautiful. "That's it.", he grunted as he pulled himself into a more comfortable position.

Bucky's striking, ice blue gaze wavered for a moment from the crowded city streets and onto the two dames he'd brought for another attempt at a double date. No, scratch that. More like another attempt at getting Steve an actual girlfriend. Bucky internally winced at the thought. Steve wasn't much of a ladies' man. Standing at about 5'5, and weighing in at around 90 pounds when wet, Steve Rogers wasn't much to look at. Hell, he couldn't even talk to a girl for longer than ten seconds without getting as red as a damn lobster. Women laughed at Steve and try as he may to impress them, they'd never flock to him as they did with Bucky. A scowl tugged on the corners of the Sergeant's mouth.

Why couldn't they see just how charismatic and kind Steve could be? How thoughtful, and helpful? How sensitive, yet strong willed? Bucky could see it. He could see it as plain as day.

With an irritated sigh, Bucky pushed himself from the thick, metal fence as it resounded with an obnoxious moan. His newly shined, black combat boots softly _thumped_ against the worn, cracked city sidewalk as he made his way to the park's gaudily decorated entrance. Bucky began to hesitate as he neared the open gate and a sense of dread hit him like a bullet. A large red, white, and blue sign hung from the top of the entrance by two small, rusty hooks. '_Soldiers on leave get FREE park admission!'_ was printed in large, exuberant black letters. Bucky shuddered slightly as the dark memories began to surface in his mind and claw at his brain like hungry little beasts.

Bucky ran a hand through his cleanly cut, thick brown hair, and heaved a shaky sigh. With a slightly jittery, yet swaggering step, the Sergeant quietly entered the small, beautifully decorated park. His usual cocky smirk played on his lips as he approached the two women, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. Not that they'd notice anyway.

The brunette turned around at the sound of someone approaching, and she squealed in delight. "Bucky!"

The other woman with her, a redhead, also turned, and a small smile graced her lips.

Bucky held out his arms in an inviting gesture, and the brunette quickly ran to him, and leapt into his strong embrace. He enveloped her in a hug. "How ya doin' Alice?" Bucky grinned.

**Steve's P.O.V.**

_Crash!_

"Damn it!" Steve groaned as his long, thin fingers carefully rubbed the back of his head. A large warm spot quickly began to form under his trembling hand. The distinct smell of copper filled the air, and Steve's stomach began to twist. With a hand still firmly placed against the back of his head, he quickly strode through his small, shabby, rundown apartment and entered the equally lousy and moldy bathroom. Steve barely had time to flip on the light switch as convulsions began to wrack his thin frame. He immediately dove for the toilet, and just as he pulled up the lid, hot, clear vomit spilled from his mouth and into the water.

Steve sat breathless for a moment as the wave of nausea began to pass him. Chills ran through his body, and he began to shiver violently as he gripped the toilet seat for support. Steve sat for what felt like hours, with only the incessant flickering of the overhead light bulb and the quiet _whirring_ of the pipes to comfort him.

With a tired groan, Steve hauled himself off of the dirt encrusted floor and grabbed the edge of the worn, off-white, sink. A shudder escaped his body as he stood and faced the mirror.

Grabbing the nearest towel he could find, Steve quickly turned on the faucet and let it run for a few moments. As he waited, his fingers again ghosted over the back of his head. A soft whimper escaped his cracked lips.

When the water was warm enough, he carefully wadded the piece of cloth up, and stuck it under the running stream. As deftly as his shaky arms could muster, Steve took the wet towel and cautiously wiped the back of his injured head. A wave of pain washed over him, and he grit his teeth to keep himself from screaming.

He held the thin towel to the wound for a good few moments before gently taking it away. Thick, clotted crimson stained the material. Steve paled.

After a 'thorough' cleaning of the injury, Steve quickly dressed it. It was pretty botched and quite noticeable from the back, but it would have to do. The thin, bloody towel was thrown in the trash, and Steve rubbed a tired, sweaty hand down his thin face. "Damn vase.", he grumbled.

With an exhausted sigh, the boy trudged out of the bathroom and carefully laid himself onto the couch in the living room. It creaked loudly under his slight weight, but Steve found the slight smell of mothballs on the couch's arm to be oddly comforting. As he settled his tiny frame into the worn down piece of furniture, Steve's eyes suddenly snapped open.

_"Shit!"_ he yelped. He was supposed to meet Bucky for a double date over an hour ago! Steve launched himself from the couch and, minding the pulsating throb on the back of his skull, threw off his stained grey t-shirt. He jogged to his room and began to rummage through his old, wooden dresser. Steve quickly pulled out a plain looking, white button up.

After fastening the last button on the shirt, he stripped of his shorts, and yanked on a pair of slightly dirty tan slacks. Steve again ran to the bathroom to check himself in the crooked mirror.

With a few rapid strokes of a comb through his thick, dirty blonde hair, Steve judged himself as looking 'good enough'.

Going as fast as his small legs could carry him; Steve bolted to the door and pulled on a pair of old, slightly-too-big black loafers and his father's thick, grey overcoat. The boy was out the door in seconds, and the slam of the wood caused him to hear the familiar shout of his rather grumpy, upstairs neighbor.

Steve was at the end of the street in about two minutes, his feet pounding against the harsh, concrete sidewalk. The park was three blocks away, and at the rate he was going, Steve assumed he'd be there in no time flat, right? Wrong.

His lungs began with a slow and steady burn that seemed to spread to each and every one of his fragile limbs. Steve began to wheeze and sputter. His lungs were screaming at him to stop, and try as he may to keep going, he ended up tripping over a rather nasty crack in the sidewalk.

His knees gave out pretty quick, and Steve was unable to catch himself. His body slammed into the ground, and the rest of what little air resided in his lungs, was gone. Long, painful coughs erupted from his mouth, and his head again began to throb steadily.

Steve grumbled a curse, and shakily pulled himself from the ground. Snickers and stares alike were sent his way, and Steve tried to ignore them, though his face flushed deep scarlet.

With both hands on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath, Steve wracked his brain for a quicker alternative route to the park, and his prayer seemed to be answered as a loud_ clang_ sung out from a nearby alleyway.

And with no other thought, Steve briskly walked towards the alley's entrance way. "This'll be perfect," he said to no one in particular," I just hope Bucky's willing to listen to an explanation."

The smell of potent garbage invaded Steve's senses as he wandered farther down the dark path. His nose wrinkled in quiet disgust.

The sun's soft, final rays of light cascaded the road ahead of him in an iridescent glow. A wave of relief flooded over Steve. He wouldn't have been able to handle a fight, and on top of that, he'd have even more explaining to do to Bucky as to why he was bruised and beaten. The date would be a lost cause after that.

But the alley seemed to be clear of threats, as none had yet approached or even noticed him. A relieved grin broke out across Steve's face as he neared the exit of the alley. The park was visible from here! And was that Bucky standing near the entrance?

"Hey Bu-" Steve started to shout, but something hard made contact with the back of his skull, and at that moment, sharp, agonizing pain took over.

**Bucky's P.O.V.**

Night was beginning to fall on the busy, East Brooklyn streets. A half crescent moon rose like a perfect shard of glass, and it bore a soft, pale light onto the city below.

Bucky quietly turned his gaze upwards, staring momentarily at the stars above him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a familiar childhood memory filling his mind. The Sergeant chuckled warmly. When he and Steve had been younger, the two of them would gaze at the stars for hours on end. They'd talk about everything, and yet nothing at all.

A soft frown appeared on Bucky's handsome face, where had Steve gone anyway? Bucky knew that deep down, even though he denied it, Steve hated these double dates, as they'd usually end in the other girl completely ignoring him and going with Bucky. A desperate sigh escaped the soldier's lips. He just wanted Steve to be happy for once, and not have to live by himself in that crummy-ass apartment. Bucky persisted that Steve live with him, that it wouldn't be a problem at all. But that stubborn little son-of-a-bitch refused.

"What's wrong handsome?" a gentle, feminine voice soothed in his ear. Bucky carefully spun around, that same cocky grin etched into his features. "Nothing doll." he chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss into the brunette's forehead. "Are we still goin' dancing? Because Charlotte was heading home if we weren't."

A barely noticeable, annoyed sigh escaped Bucky. "Of course we are!"

"Great!" the brunette, Alice, chirped, "I'll go and get Charlotte!" Bucky forced a smile. "I'll be waiting."

When she was out of earshot, Bucky grumbled a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. "Damn it Steve! Why aren't you here? I get this all nice and set up for ya, and ya don't even show! That just figures, you cocky son-of-a-bitch. I know you don't like going on these, but I'm doing this because I care for ya you dumb bastard! I'm helping you out for Christ's sake! I just-"

A terrible, gut wrenching scream exploded through the calm night time air, and Bucky froze on the spot. His head snapped in the cry's general direction. He strained his ears, willing them to hear something else.

Sure enough, another pained and hauntingly familiar shout erupted. Bucky paled. "Steve..."

Without another word, Bucky tore out of the park and onto the crowded New York street. A distinct, voice called after him," Bucky Barnes, where the hell are you going?" It was soon ignored as another cry tore through the night.

Bucky ran as fast as he could, earning some curious and concerned stares as he sprinted across the road and into the alley. Harsh and heavy breaths escaped through tightly clenched teeth. Another scream, sounding ever closer, rang out.

"Hold on Steve!" Bucky roared as he barreled down the thin alleyway. Sharply turning a sudden corner, Bucky immediately found what he had been searching for. And let me tell you, 'pissed off' couldn't even begin to describe his emotions.

There lay Steve on the dirty, shit encrusted ground, surrounded by not one, but five gang members. The boy's clothes were soaked with thick, choking crimson, and his arm was bent at a highly unnatural angle. "B-Bu-Bucky..." he wheezed. A sudden kick to the ribs greeted him.

"Move along pretty boy, there ain't nothin' for you to see here." The assumed leader grunted. Snickers broke out amongst the other four. "Move along now, and we won't hurt ya."

Every muscle in the Sergeant's body was tense, and ready for immediate action. "B-Bucky, g-g-go." Steve rasped. Another kick.

Bucky's eye twitched, his mind scrambling to come up with how he was going to take down all of these goons at one. "Didn't ya hear us?" the leader slurred, "Get out now if y-" The man didn't even have time to react as a pocket knife was securely lodged in his jugular. Too stunned to do anything, the other gang members stood with their mouths agape. "Who's next?" Bucky snarled as he grabbed hold of a rusty metal pipe. As their leader laid choking blood on the alley floor, one by one, each member ran at Bucky full tilt.

Tightening his grip on the metal pipe, he rapidly swung at each person one by one, until two were out cold and severely bleeding from wounds on their heads. The third managed to grab him by the waist and throw him to the ground.

A groan flew from Bucky as his head hit the concrete. With his legs pinned on either side of the soldier, the goon reared his arm back to punch. And Bucky would be damned if he said that the bastard didn't give him a few good licks.

As the goon swung his fist down, Bucky skillfully caught it and gave it a sharp twist. A loud crack sounded and the man grabbed at his hand in pain. With a good, hard shove, Bucky managed to get the son-of-a-bitch off of him and onto the ground. All it took was a few, well placed right hooks and the goon was out.

Bucky heaved himself onto his feet, and turned on his heel. Blood ran freely from a gash above his right eye, and Bucky was forced to close it to avoid it getting bled on. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, and he tasted copper. A smirk played on his lips. It was probably from the broken nose.

The last goon stood alone, and was visibly shaking in terror. Bucky raised his bruised and extremely bloody fists. Without needing another reason to stay, the horrified bastard was out of the alley faster than a race car.

Bucky mustered a sigh of relief, though it was quickly replaced with one of anguish once he saw Steve.

"Steve!" Bucky yelled. The boy in question was showing no signs of recognition to the soldier's desperate voice. Bucky wasted no time in getting to Steve and kneeling beside him. As carefully as he could, he rolled his wounded friend over onto his back.

"Steve ya gotta wake up. Come on now, I know you hear me ya stupid bastard. Please Steve, just answer me!" Bucky growled as he gently shook the boy.

And with a pitiful, agonizing cough, Steve shuddered himself awake. His eyes, encrusted with thick, gooping crimson, cracked open. Harsh coughs erupted from his thin, injured frame.

A relieved sigh escaped Bucky," Damn it Steve, you can't do that to me!" A small, joking smile appeared on his bruised lips. "Sorry Buck, I can't help it."

With a single swift motion, Bucky pulled off his jacket and then his dark grey button down. He tore the thin shirt into strips and firmly pressed them against his friend's wounds. Steve hissed and moaned in pain. "Sorry bud." Bucky winced.

Steve tried to force a smile, but it came out looking like a grimace. Bucky frowned. "What were you doing out here Steve? You weren't trying to ditch the date again, were you?"

Another cough escaped Steve. "No, I was on my way to met you, and I-I guess I kinda got mugged." Bucky scowled. "Steve-"

"Bucky I'm so s-sorry. Please you have to forgive me. Don't give up on me, please. I need you more than you know." Steve sobbed, tears cascading down his face.

Bucky was shocked. No, shocked is an understatement. His icy gaze locked onto Steve's crying form, and tears began to well up in his own eyes. "Damn it kid," he snarled, "I'm not leaving ya. I'll never leave ya." Bucky gently pulled Steve into his arms and held him, minding his bad arm, as he sobbed into his chest.

"Do you p-p-promise?" Steve hiccupped. Bucky didn't hesitate.

"I promise. I'll never let anything else happen to ya, alright?" Steve continued to sob, shivers wracking his body. The Sergeant carefully rubbed small, soothing circles into his friend's back and gently rocked back and forth, telling him everything would be ok.

After a few moments, no sound came from Steve. Bucky immediately noticed.

"Steve?" he whispered as he looked down at him. To his surprise, and dread, Steve was out cold.

**Steve's P.O.V.**

Light. That was the first thing Steve saw. Well, that and the very concerned and tired face of Bucky Barnes. As his vision began to clear, and the memories from the night before came flooding back, Steve could only manage, "Where am I?"

A relieved smile crossed Bucky's handsome features as he replied. "At New York State Hospital. After you blacked out, someone called for the ambulance and you were sent here." Steve looked at himself, and a half-gasp escaped his chapped lips. His arm, which had been gruesomely broken, was now set and held tightly in place by a blue sling, and more than half of his body was covered in bandages and gauze.

His gaze remained downward for some time, and Bucky grew worried. "Steve? You ok?"

The blonde's head rose to show tears running rivers down his face. "Was I really that helpless?" he whispered.

Bucky felt his heartstrings tug. "N-no bud. You did just fine." It wasn't that much of a lie. What Steve didn't remember wouldn't hurt him, right?

Doubt crossed the boy's features, and the tears kept coming. Sobs ran through his thin, injured body and were causing the stitches to open.

Bucky quickly stood and grabbed a hold of Steve's shoulders. "Steve look at me." he commanded, his voice soft, yet firm. With a weary nod, Steve lifted his head. Bucky sighed before he began. "Steve, listen to me. You're the strongest and bravest person I've ever met. You have the biggest heart I've ever seen in anybody and you're willing to do anything to help anyone. And I-I admire you for that. You're someone I could never be. Hell, you're someone no one can ever be. You're a true hero Steve."

Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-you mean that?"

"Every last word."

A cheesy grin broke out upon Steve's face, as well as a good amount of blush. Bucky chuckled.

"I'll always be here for ya buddy." Bucky whispered as he gripped Steve's hand. "Whenever ya need me, just say the word and I'll be there."

**The End!**


End file.
